


Moments

by HardingHightown



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardingHightown/pseuds/HardingHightown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my drabbles and prompt fills from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deeper (Iron bull x Trevelyan)

She was hard to read, and he told himself that was why she interested him.

Away from command, away from the field, she was quiet and observant, sitting always at the edges and watching. After he’d taken her out that first time, she spent more and more time on the edges of the troops, of the kitchen staff and surgeons and, when they joined, the Templars. And yet she was rowdy too, her great heaving laugh filling the tavern whenever they drank together, her mind quick and witty even when stumble-down drunk. Then, she would disappear for days, not leave her quarters, and emerge again like a ghost on the battlements.

Contradictions kept him interested.

When he’d first bedded her he said he knew what she needed and he wasn’t wrong, in that first instance. But she didn’t just need control taken away. She needed control to be made malleable. She needed to be able to trick him, to turn tables and surprise. And she did. She surprised him every time.

But none more so than when she let him stay in her quarters overnight. None more so when he woke to her weeping, a silent, long wail heaved from her shaking body. He lay with her for two days, not leaving her side until she woke one time with a smile and said it was time to face the world again.

In truth, she was simpler than he’d thought, and he loved her all the more for it.


	2. Anything (Iron Bull x Trevelyan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angharad saved the Chargers during "Demands of the Qun", only to have them killed during one of the side quests she sends them on (let's say by Envy in "Investigate Therinfal Redoubt"). Prompt is her conversation with Bull after the news comes in.

“You know I’d give anything to take it back. To change it. You have to know that.”

Her voice echoes in the corner of his mind even as he looks at her, pushed out to the edges as he thinks on his men. His  _men_. The choice he had made not two months ago. The family he had chosen over his culture, his reason. Now what did he have?

“I am so sorry. If I could do anything, give anything,  I would. I’d give anything.”

He looked at her, rage boiling up in his stomach to the point that he can taste iron on his tongue. She’s shaking, her eyes full of water, her face red and shamed. She looks pathetic.

“I know, Kadan,”

“Please say it’s okay. Please?”

He can’t, and she must know he can’t. He’ll forgive her, hopefully soon, but it’s not okay. It won’t be forgotten. It can’t be. He thinks to how he would deal with this under the Qun, but it feels like a distant memory. What would be the point of it, of ritual and control, of training it down without the Qun to guide him through. He is Tal-Va-Fucking-Shoth, and with nothing to show for it.

She steps closer to him, taking his hands in hers, and gently places them on her collarbone, right by her neck. She looks up at him, tears now spilling out of her eyes and she shakes. 

“Come on, Bull. Take it out on me.”

He’s tempted, for all of a second, to squeeze and squeeze until she faints. To take a blade and rip her skin like they were torn apart, to make her cry and bleed and beg. Then he looks into her eyes and realises… she would let him. She would never say stop. He could never hurt her more than she was hurting herself, he could never blame her as much as she blamed herself.

A lesser man would do it anyway. Maybe she had been right. Maybe he doesn’t need the Qun to control him.

He cups her face in his hands, wiping away the tears that fall.

“I’m a better man than that.”

She holds her hands over his, leaning to kiss one.

“You’re a better man than I deserve."


	3. Written to The Iron Bull, from A (Iron Bull x Trevelyan)

I will not name you beloved. My sun and stars  
You will not name me neither. And that is right.  
You are not the man from my mother’s stories.  
You are not the handsome knight   
On a shining white steed here to rescue,  
To save me from my failures.   
No.   
It is not rescue. That’s not it. This?   
This is what I need.

You say Kadan. My heart. And it fits.  
It slips over me as I sit on your face and quiver   
As our blood pumps apace. In time with each other.  
I am your heart. I am of your body  
As I lose myself in it.  
I lose myself but you  
You see me.  
You know where I’m hiding  
Always  
And I like this game.   
I do as I’m bidden but it’s you who serves.  
I see it in every knot.

When we part (and we will  
Of that I am sure) it will not be in loathing  
Of crying out for something   
More.  
It will not be in mourning of a distant future  
That we promised that we’d give.   
It will be in the knowledge that I live my life   
Having been your heart.   
And you mine.

And you know what,  
Kadan?  
That to me is a fine  
Thing indeed.


	4. Sweet Thing (Iron Bull x Trevelyan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tevintter for the prompt “sickly sweet cakes”

“The thing with baking Kadan,” the Bull rumbled, hunched double over a row of perfectly uniform petit fours, “is that it’s not an artistry of passion. It’s about precision.”

She was aware she made some sort of noise in agreement, absently licking on the spoon as she watched him work. Bull never ceased to surprise her, but this was a new level, seeing him gently swirl icing on cakes the size of his thumb. She couldn’t help but laugh at it all, which earned her a glare.

“Something funny, boss?”

“it’s just… All of this!” She explained, waking the spoon around. “You. Cakes. It’s just… Not what I thought you’d suggest.”

“One of us has to apologise to Josephine. You offended her.”

“The noble was taking the piss. Mocking you. I didn’t mean-”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant, boss. You made light of her job. You hurt her. You’re going to make it right.”

Suddenly, she felt less hungry. The idea of Josephine’s potential sadness sat hard on her stomach. She hadn’t meant to insult Josephine. She hadn’t. But the reception was a disaster and the Duke was an ass and… And it didn’t matter. She remembered the look on Josephine’s face. It was enough to make her want to cry.

“Hey Kadan, chin up.”

She looked up to find him right in front of her, one perfectly formed, pink iced treat held before her.

“It’s not about what you did. It’s how you show you care about making it right. She’ll be fine.”

He slipped the cake between her lips, and it was perfect. Light and sweet and soft. Bliss in a bite.

“Good, Kadan?”

She could only nod. Good, indeed.


	5. A slip of the tongue (M) (Iron Bull x Trevelyan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chupacabrasmustdie prompted “A slip of the tongue”

She’d made him take a long bath when they returned from the coast, and now he was soft with sweet oils and scrub. He’d complain if it hasn’t felt so nice, having hands all over him. He didn’t let her look after him enough.

He’d definitely remember to let her in the future.

The fire crackling was the sole accompaniment to the obscene noises she made with her mouth. She didn’t bother to be neat or clean, using as much of her mouth as possible and letting both hands work the rest of him. She kept it up until she felt him start to buck up into her mouth, and then she’d change it up, sucking on the head or teasing with a soft hand. She kept him on the edge.

He’d make her pay for that later. If he remembered.

For now his mind was strained as she pulled back her head entirely and rubbed her thumb roughly over that sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, causing him to let out a roar that was entirely out of his control.

“I like it when you sound like a beast.”

He looked down to see her grinning up at him, before she took one of his balls in her mouth. He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting then, his head rolling backwards and letting out a strangled “I love you.”

She stopped immediately, damn her, and propped herself up on her elbows. “Come again?”

“I love you when you do that. I love when you do that, I mean. Slip of the tongue.”

She grinned at him again, with that look in her eye, before she pushed up one of his thighs and disappeared from view. He felt her tongue move lower, circling his asshole as one hand lazily stroked him.

“Hary, what are you-”

“Slip of the tongue,” She mumbled against him before she lapped at him hungrily, letting him buck up into her hand as the other grasped his thigh.

Oh yeah. He’d definitely make sure she paid for this later.


	6. You don't have to (Iron Bull x Trevelyan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: you don't have to stay

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” she found herself muttering before he’d even fully pulled out. “I’m a big girl, you don’t have to coddle me.”

“It’s called aftercare, boss,” he growled, rolling off on her and groaning with the relief. “I’d have thought you’d have grasped the concept by now.”

That word,  _boss_ , sat uncomfortably in her, making her aware of the cold on her skin, the mess between her legs, the pain returning in her back. “I’m just saying. You didn’t push me today. I don’t need to waste your time if you’re busy.”

“This is your time,” he replied, turning awkwardly on his side, causing the bed to sink and her to roll towards him too. “And I think I did push you.”

“Did not.”

“Afraid so.”

“Sorry to break it to you Bull, but aside from your belly pushing me into the bed, it was all very tame.”

“I think it’s easier for you when we laugh and fight,” he countered, one large hand gently tracing over her hip. “It’s easier to be tied up or gagged. To just be two people in a bed? That’s not you.”

He was wrong, actually. It had been her, many years before, all doe-eyes and soft touches and whispers on lips, but she didn’t need him worrying about that now.

“I think your time would be better spent elsewhere, Bull.”

“If you say so, boss. It’s your money.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that.”

He sat up and shrugged, re-fastening his trousers and reaching for his brace. “You pay me for my time. You hire me. It’s your money.”

“It’s inquisition money, for when you fight. You’re not my whore.”

He grinned at that, of course he did. She knew that was going to come up again in a scene.

“If you’re sure you want me to leave, boss. You know I’ll go. I won’t push to stay if you don’t want it.”

“I’m sure. I’m fine.”

He stood, boots in hand, and went for the door.

“No goodbye kiss?” she shot at him, the grin spreading across her face. He smiled at her chuckling softly as he descended the stairs, calling up behind him.

“See you later, boss.”

She managed to hold on until the door clicked behind him before the tears started to fall.


	7. Dont Trust Me (Sullen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cullen x Samson, “Don’t trust me.”, pretty please?

They’d been looking over the maps for hour, dancing around the war table like it was a game, Cullen in full armour and Samson in linens. Cullen made sure he stood taller, lead the movements around the room, stood firm by Samson to trace the lines he made with his finger over the maps, fingers touching only when he allowed it.

“You’re putting a lot of stock in what I have to say, Rutherford,” the older man drawled. Cullen could feel him staring at him, but he kept looking ahead, not wanting to give him anything, not yet.

“One more camp Rutherford. Then you’ll have all you want from me.”

He made the mistake then of turning his head just slightly, realising they were close enough for Samson’s breath to feel hot on his cheek.

“You don’t know what I want from you,” he growled, his voice cracking as if he were a green boy again.

Samson pulled Cullen’s face to his roughly, his bloodshot eyes boring into Cullen. “Don’t trust me, kid.”

Cullen closed the gap, his nose touching the traitor’s.

“You’re mistaken if you think I ever did.”


	8. Morning (Sullen)

“Don’t get used to this, kid.”

The heat had been beating down on the gallows for days now, and the close nature had Cullen feeling trapped, suffocated. The dreams had been worse, worse than they had been for years, but now at least he had him.

Well, as much as anybody would have a man like Samson.

He’d crept into Cullen’s cot and held him down as he thrashed. He’d prised open Cullen’s jaw to stop his teeth clamping on his tongue. And, when the fit had ceased, he had held him close against him. Cullen relished the feeling of being stuck by sweat to Samson’s lean frame, his nose nozzles against the man’s sharp collarbone. He breathed in time with him, letting out a brief moan of contentment that was countered by an exaggerated disgusted sound from the older templar.

Shifting his arm slightly, Cullen brushed against something hard against Samson’s stomach. It couldn’t be…

It had to be.

Cullen looked up, eyes wide and the slightest smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Samson was less amused.

“Don’t flatter yourself, arsehole,” he coughed, attempting to adjust himself away from the noticeably unmoving arm of his charge. “I’m always hard in the mornings.”

Cullen said nothing.

And settled closer into his guardian. His Sam.


	9. Kadan (Iron Bull x Blackwall)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "You don’t have to be so gentle." + BlackBull

The Iron Bull isn’t what he expects him to be. The Iron Bull isn’t rough or bestial, isn’t demanding and hard. The Iron Bull is massaged muscles, and combed hair. The Iron Bull is rich foods fed with fingers thrust into his mouth. The Iron Bull is nights curled up by the fire, sat on the hard muscle of his thighs whilst clawed hands work his cock slowly, gently, making him come in long slow bursts before carrying him off to bed.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” Thom tells him tonight, stripping away his clothes and standing naked before the him. “You won’t break me.”

“I do,” comes the reply, as two large hands settle over Thom’s shoulders, barely touching. “I do, and I know.”

Bull steps closer, allowing his lips to brush the widow’s peak right on the tip.

“You are already broken, Kadan. And that is okay here.”


	10. Light in the Dark (Meredith x Cullen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meredith x Cullen: “I can't breathe!”  
> (Dark timeline Cullen, so don’t read if you don’t like that)

His hands were scrabbling at hers. Oh, how futile. The boy was a wreck, half starved and all bones, pulling at her strong gloved hands as they wrapped around his neck. She wasn’t even squeezing yet, not really, just enough pressure for his face to start to redden and his eyes to water.

“Please… Knight Commander… I can’t breathe.”

“Indeed, Cullen,” she replied, her voice steady as she pushed her thumb hard on his windpipe. “My reports say you should be very familiar with this effect.”

His eyes were bulging slightly as her eyes left them, looking down and the myriad of scratches on his torso. Fingernails, all clawing at him, trying to get him to stop.

She released him and let him drop to the ground, the sound of heaving breath and spittle hitting the floor marking the air. When he looked up at her again, there was no mistaking the fact that he was crying.

“How many did you kill, Rutherford?”

“Please, I beg you-”

“How many.”

“Please-”

“You don’t leave this room until I know.”

He was silent for a moment, even the sobs stilling as his breath caught. Then, with a tremble in his voice, he confessed.

“I don’t even know how many. I don’t. It’s a sickness, it comes to me in sleep. I only see her face… and she…”

He collapsed into fits of tears, bent double, his wails hitting the stone of the floor. She was disgusted, not just at the display, or the fact that they’d never know for certain where the missing girls were or how many, but at the pang of pity in her heart for this wretched creature.

The Maker would forgive him if he atoned. He’d forgive them all.

Silently she sank to her knees before him, raising his head in her hands, feeling his cheeks slick with tears as she held him to her.

“I promise you,” she swore, her forehead against his, her hand in his curls. “I will never let you hurt another woman again.”


	11. Weakness (Meredith x Cullen)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: First kiss (naked) : Cullen x Meredith

She had seen him kneel before her naked before. She had stroked his curls and let him weep, grasping on to her hand she had held him to her chest tightly to stop the shaking and breathed with him until he stopped… but today was different.

Today, due to her own weakness, her own lack of foresight, she was as naked as he, decked only in a plain white sheet to stop their bodies touching. And he ached to touch her flesh, she could feel it. His hands tangled in her un-brushed hair as if trying to trap her, but he would not.

“Please,” she heard him whine, the sound so unappealing in the morning light. His eyes met hers and she saw only the red. “Meredith, I…”

His mouth didn’t crash onto hers as she had expected it might. Instead his lips touched her bottom lip gently, returning to suck on it, his tongue flitting on the surface. Her body reacted in a way she had not felt in years.

How easy it would be right now to throw her arms around him, to pull him in and deepen the kiss, to tell him he was hers, all hers, and beloved and dear and safe. But she could not, would not do such a thing. Her resolve kept her still as he pulled back, eyes wide with horror at what he had just done.

“My apologies, Knight-Commander. It won’t happen again.”

It would, for a time. And then after, Meredith would weep from the loss of it all.


	12. We'll build it together (Blackwall x Cadash)

He’d never tell her, but he loved her scowl.

She was blessed with a youthful face. He told her often, if only to see it contort and furrow in the brow as she chastised him for saying so.

Her brow was furrowed now in concentration as she set the last piece of metal in her trap. He was amazed that a woman with such a temper could turn herself to such intricate work as artifice, but her hand stayed steady and her breath stayed smooth as she placed the final tiny metal splint and set it back.“Be careful the children don’t mistake it as a toy,” she murmured as she did her final checks, laying the piece on the workbench with care. “I doubt they’d find it as fun as your bird-dogs.”

He smiled and returned to sanding down his latest effort. The third one now, and a solid piece with the mistakes of the previous two ironed out. He ran his hand over the curve along the back, checking for splinters. A few still. He’d have to keep sanding.

Siba pulled herself up on to the workbench, and sat looking at him sand. She had that long-look in her eyes that he knew well. For a woman who claimed to be a “mindless thug”, she spent a lot of time quiet, contemplating. In the past he’d asked her, pushed her to tell him her secret thoughts. He knew better now, and kept on sanding, waiting for her to tell him if she felt the need.

“We could make it better.”

He stopped sanding, and she took the griffon from his hands. “Thom, we can use the mechanism from the trap. Make it rock smoothly. Like a gallop. Like this.”

She grasped his hand and brought it to the griffon, keeping one of hers on top of him as she rocked the base. “The hinge will keep it moving straight, see?” she told him, moving his hand with hers. He stopped looking at the Griffon, his eyes taken up with the spark in hers. 

“We could build it together, Thom. If you want.”

He pulled the griffon to his chest, pulling her focus up to him as he stroked the side of her face tenderly with his free hand.

“We’ll build it together, love.”

She scowled at him. And it was wonderful.


	13. Stuck (Adoribull)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not funny- I'm really stuck! Dorian/Bull pls

Dorian was still coming down from it, his body twitching and jerking as Bull kept running his thick fingers over his cock. He could hear the tavern below them beginning to spring into life, barrels being brought in and voices murmuring. They didn’t have much time to get out of their position in the second floor. Damn Bull, not being able to wait until they’d scaled another flight of stairs…

He went to move, but found himself… lodged between the heavy table and the thick wooden slats. The come on his chest felt cold and disgusting, and he could feel the sweat crystallizing on his skin.

“Bull… a little help, if you please.”

One big grey eye widened as he looked on, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Oh my…”

“It’s not funny- I’m really stuck!” Dorian hissed, trying once more in vain to tense his stomach enough to escape. He was too spent, too utterly wrecked to find the core strength needed.

“Hmmm, I think I should leave you here, waiting for one of the barmaids to find you,” Bull practically purred, squeezing Dorian’s leg roughly. “Totally spent, covered in come, still all loose from me. It’ll make their day.”

“Bull-”

“You look gorgeous like this.”

His cock made a half-hearted twitch at those words, the damn traitor, and Dorian could feel the flush rising on his cheeks.

“Well if you ever want to see it again, I suggest you help me out of here.”

Bull leaned in to him, his tongue running over Dorian’s chest, lapping up the spend on his chest before kissing him, passing it to Dorian to swallow.

“You filthy brute.”

“You love it, brat. Now let’s get you out of here.”


End file.
